


Mimic

by scythekind



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)
Genre: Elizabath Swann, F/M, Jack Sparrow - Freeform, POTC - Freeform, sparrabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scythekind/pseuds/scythekind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t until Jack swooped down and captured her in a kiss did she realize what he was doing. How had she not seen it the second he had thanked her? After all, she had replayed that memory in her head over and over again while they searched for a way into the Locker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mimic

Jack Sparrow stood at the wheel of the _Black Pearl_ , not even steering the ship, but simply laying a hand on the wood with a penchant look about his face. It was this look that stopped Elizabeth from continuing her trek towards him, because before this whole mess, Jack never looked like that. The pirate that had saved her from drowning and a life of societal boredom was always up to something, a mischievous glint in his eyes, not this thoughtfulness that he was currently wearing.

Elizabeth took a small step backwards, hoping that the shadows of the Pearl had hidden her from his view. She contemplated just going below deck to Will, and away from the man that she had killed and brought back to life. She moved to take another slow step back, when the wood of the deck groaned loudly under her weight, the sound filling the silence of the ship. Freezing, Elizabeth felt her heart skip a beat, glaring down at her foot and the wood while she cursed the ship- which was strangely alive- for giving her away.

“Elizabeth,” he finally said. Her head snapped up to meet his gaze across the deck.

“Jack,” she sighed in surrender, stepping out of the shadow that failed in cloaking her. The murderess continued to make her way to the wheel of the ship, before faltering in front of the mast when Jack began to move towards her as well. She froze while the newly-resurrected captain slowly stepped down the stairs onto the deck, both of them silent.

“What is it that you want?” Jack asked, breaking the silence, standing at the base of the steps. Elizabeth felt a surge of anger and annoyance at his casual manner of lounging, but she quickly pushed it down when she remembered that she had no business being angry at him. After all, _she_ was the one who sent _him_ to the Locker.

“I want to apologize, Jack,” she said quietly, almost timidly. Jack paused, only staring at her with a blank expression while she waited patiently for a response.

“Apologize?” he suddenly repeated, loudly. Jack walked past Elizabeth, who turned to face him in confusion. The pirate didn’t say anything, simply walking in an almost arrogant and mocking manner, before turning around abruptly. “You don’t need to apologize, Lizzie,” Elizabeth nearly flinched at the nickname.

“But Jack-” she moved towards him, stopping a distance from him that wasn’t as close as she wished, but too close than appropriate for a woman and the man that she had killed.

“In fact, I should say ‘Thank you, Lizzie!’, shouldn’t I?” he proclaimed. Elizabeth felt only more confused by the mocking undertone that Jack adopted.

“Jack, I don’t understand…I-” she stopped, taking in a sharp breath,”I killed you, Jack.” Continuing to befuddle her, Jack smirked.

“But you came back for me!” he told her in a dramatic way. Something inside Elizabeth stirred, a warning feeling that didn’t help her current puzzlement. Jack stepped closer to her, his smirk looking more and more malicious to her by the second, “After all, Lizzie, you are a good man,” he paused, “Well, woman,” he added. His smirk was now gone, only a dark, blank look on his face, and Elizabeth could see the _hate_ in his eyes for her.

It wasn’t until Jack swooped down and captured her in a kiss did she realize what he was doing. How had she not seen it the second he had thanked her? After all, she had replayed that memory in her head over and over again while they searched for a way into the Locker. That moment, her deception, his murder, had been seared into the back of her eyelids, haunting her. She had looked upon him with a smile, _thanking_ him for _coming back_ for them, telling him that she always knew that he was a _good man_. And then, she had kissed him, just as he was doing now to her.

Only that kiss was filled with passion, tension, and, even if she did not admit it back then, love. This one, however, was hateful, meant to bruise and hurt and bring tears to her eyes. His hands were rough on her body, pushing her quickly and harshly towards the mast, shoving her forcefully until wood dug into her back. Still, he did not stop touching her, his mouth attacking hers, his hand trailing softly in deception towards her own. How was it possible, she thought, that his actions full of malice could mirror her own past ones so perfectly, yet be so unlike them at the same time?

She gasped and sobbed when finally, he broke away from her. Tears had already been running down her face. Elizabeth let out an even more pathetic sob when she felt his fingers wrap around her delicate wrist firmly, holding it against the wood of the mast just as she had trapped him in manacles.

“ _Click_ ,” Jack sang mockingly. He leaned down to face her once more, and said in a low voice, “Now, we can skip that pathetic excuse of an explanation that you gave me, and get right to the part where you said...what was it? It was something along the lines of ‘ _I’m not sorry_ ’, correct?” He didn’t say anything for a moment, merely studying Elizabeth’s tear-covered face. “Well, _Lizzie_? Are you still _not sorry_?” he asked, a sneer curling on his lips, moving towards her even more until their noses brushed.

Every ounce of guilt that Elizabeth felt for him was now washed away for sure. All that was left was disgust and contempt for the empty, malicious man that had her trapped. Yes, she was still _not sorry_. Instead, she scowled, tears still streaming, and spat at him, just as he had to her when she had him in this position, “ _Pirate_.”

 


End file.
